


The Difference Between What is Never to Be and What Never Was

by catwrites



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Groundhog Day AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 22:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8508136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catwrites/pseuds/catwrites
Summary: Faraday wakes up.
(Or the groundhog day!au that I couldn't stop thinking about.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! 
> 
> Obligatory 'I don't own anything' here.
> 
> Not beta read. All mistakes are my own. Also, the extent of my Spanish is very limited, so if there are any glaring mistakes there please let me know.
> 
> Please enjoy! :)

Faraday wakes up. The predawn sky is just beginning to lighten through the slit in the curtain. His mind scrambles to remember where he is. Taking stock of his body, he feels fine. He’s fine. He sits up, and the room spins. He still feels like retching, but the vertigo passes fast.

He scrambles out of bed and takes the two quick strides to the door, still in his night clothes. Vasquez is just leaving his own room next door, and when they nearly collide, he steadies Faraday with a quick hand to the shoulder.

"Almost time. _Listo?_ "

Faraday wraps his fingers unsteadily around Vasquez's wrist and holds tight before he can remove his hand. Vasquez frowns at his shaky grip and then up at his face. Whatever expression is there causes Vasquez's frown to deepen.

"All right there, _güero_?"

And this time Faraday does retch, bending at the waist but keeping Vasquez wrist locked in his hold. He dry heaves twice before leaning his forehead against Vasquez stomach and closing his eyes to breathe. Vasquez doesn’t say anything, just a surprisingly comforting presence, steady and calm while Faraday collects himself. 

The phantom pressure in his chest from the explosion hasn't lessened any, and he can still feel the burn of lead eating through his flesh once, twice, three times and more. A saddle hard under him, the feeling of not being fast enough, not going to make it in time to make a difference. A cigarette and a magic trick, sleight of hands, and an eye-patch. A lone stick of dynamite.

Boom.

"Boom," he says to Vasquez's boots. His voice comes out raspy and he clears his throat.

"Time for a boom," Vasquez agrees, carefully helping him to a full upright position. Apparently unconcerned by how hard Faraday is clinging to his wrist, they stand there for a moment.

It must have been a dream. It had to have been a dream.

Faraday tries for a smile. "Can't hold my whiskey like I used to."

The joke falls flat between them and Faraday forces his fingers to uncurl. "Sorry."

Vasquez raises an eyebrow at him before shaking his head. "No problem here, _güero_. See you outside, _sí_?"

Faraday watches him go before returning to his room and pulling on his clothes hastily. He stumbles down and out into the street to watch the town come awake. The people of Rose Creek hustle by, last minute preparations before the siege. Faraday can't shake the feeling that he's done all this before. He rubs uncertainly at his chest, failing to relieve some of that phantom pressure, before responding to one of the men beckoning him over to help with some final sandbags.

It all happens the same. The trenches and the charges. The man who manages to shoot him in the side. Faraday watches Vasquez storm out of hiding, and the sudden feeling of inevitability washes over him. He feels cold from more than just blood loss.

Goodnight makes his triumphant return, and Faraday helps Chisolm get the women and children out of the town.

He asks for cover.

A saddle hard under him.

A magic trick and sleight of hands.

A lone stick of dynamite.

Boom.

Faraday wakes up.

He goes through the same day two more times before he tries to change it.

Boom. Boom.

Day five, he wakes up. He climbs out of bed and doesn't cradle his head in his hands. He gets dressed.

He saddles his horse and doesn't look back.

His half-formed plan of somehow talking Bogue out of heading into Rose Creek ends as he should have expected. 

Boom.

Faraday wakes up.

He tries to tell the town he's seen the future. 

He tries to tell just one of the others. 

He tries to alter things any way he can think to and then some.

No matter what he does, nothing seems to change. 

He flees once, gets as far as the next town just to be shot; an unintended victim of a dueler with terrible aim. 

Boom and reset just the same.

On the thirteenth morning, Vasquez is slow to come out of his hiding spot when McCann shoots him. McCann gets another shot off, right into the artery of Faraday's thigh. His leg gives out and he sits hard in the dirt, warmth spreading down his leg. He stares up at McCann and waits for the next shot to come, the inevitable end to this iteration of today. 

Vasquez storms out before it happens, guns blazing, and then drags him back into the safety of the building. They sit on the floor, Faraday cradled in between Vasquez's legs, back to chest.

" _Güerito_."

Faraday grimaces as Vasquez presses his hands hard into the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Faraday puts a hand over Vasquez’s and whimpers. Blood seeps between their fingers, coating their skin in red. Faraday tangles the fingers of his free hand into the fabric of Vasquez’s pants and holds tight.

"You're normally faster," Faraday comments when he finds the voice to speak through the pain.

" _Lo siento_. I tried. Wasn't fast enough."

Faraday shakes his head and reaches back unthinkingly with his bloody hand to pat Vasquez on the face. His fingers slip along Vasquez’s jaw and smear blood into the stubble on his face. He leans his head back onto Vasquez's shoulder. "No, no. It's okay. You'll do better tomorrow."

Vasquez curses, and mutters a long string of words that Faraday doesn't understand. His pants feel heavy, drenched, and there’s a warm puddle of blood spreading out around them.

"Maybe I should try and learn that language of yours. Got today forever to do it." Faraday laughs, and then groans.

"Shut up, _cabrón_. Jesus, _güero_ , you just never stop talking."

The world goes dark at the edges and Faraday nods. "Yeah, that's true."

He closes his eyes, and the last thing he hears is Vasquez, cursing in English and Spanish both, and then his name.

"Joshua..."

Faraday wakes up.

Boom.

Faraday wakes up.

Boom.

And on it goes. Over and Over.

Normally, Faraday doesn't see any of the others die. He can guess that Billy and Goody don't make it in the bell tower the days they stay up there. Maybe other days too. He imagines, statistically, they must all take their fair share of fatal hits. 

This is the first day he can remember that he sees it happen. He’s lost count of how many times he’s woken up here, on this morning, and this is still the first time he’s been a witness. Vasquez leaves his safety spot early, steps out and takes that bullet meant for Faraday. Faraday shoots McCann until his gun clicks empty, and takes a moment to note that he missed getting the body into the coffin the way Vasquez always seems to.

Vasquez wheezes, blood staining the fabric of his shirt fast. Gut wounds, Faraday knows from experience, are the worst.

"You ain't meant to take that hit. You ain't ever before," Faraday says as he helps Vasquez to his feet and into cover. 

"Next time, _güero_ , it's all yours." Vasquez closes his eyes as he leans against the wall. 

"I ain't seen you die before and I ain't wanting to start today."

Vasquez cracks his eye open with a snort, slowly sliding down the wall to sit heavily on the dirty floor. "Not sure you have a choice."

Faraday can't help the injured noise he makes at that. He sinks down to sit beside the other man. Vasquez list to the side and leans against his side. 

"What a way to go, eh _cariño_?"

"That's a new one. I know what all the other words mean now. I'll ask you about it tomorrow." 

Vasquez nods. "All right. If I see tomorrow, I'll tell you, _sí_?"

Faraday sits with Vasquez until he stops breathing, the way Vasquez has done for him a seemingly endless number of times now. Then he loads a single bullet into the chamber of his gun. Time to test a theory. Any outcome is preferable to this one.

He spares a brief thought for Emma. So this is how it feels. He didn’t think it was supposed to hurt this much. He’s hesitant to call it love, but it’s something. Something that squeezes around his throat, his heart, like a vice and won’t shake loose. 

Emma is far braver than him, he thinks, the gun a familiar weight in his hand. He won’t do this on his own if the option not to exist. 

Boom.

Faraday wakes up, the remembered taste of gun oil on his tongue.

He gets up and listens at the door until he can time it right. He wrenches it open and grabs Vasquez's arm, pulling him into the room. He lets the door slam behind them.

" _Cabrón_!"

He backs Vasquez up against the door. "I like it when you call me the other names better."

" _Sí_? Like what? _Tonto_?"

"No. _Güerito_." He pauses for a second before he says, " _Cariño_."

Vasquez furrows his eyebrows. "I've never-"

Faraday raises an eyebrow and Vasquez trails off uncertainly.

"So what's that one mean?"

Vasquez drops his gaze, and if the room weren't quite so dark in the predawn, Faraday bets he would see a blush.

"I'm getting pretty good. I can take a guess, if you-"

"Darling."

Faraday pauses, before he smiles. It's a soft thing. " _Sí_?"

" _Sí. Sí, cariño_."

Faraday leans in closer, bracketing Vasquez in with hands on either side of his head. Faraday takes a moment to study the other man's face. His scruff and the shadows under his eyes. 

Vasquez lets his head fall back against the wood and allows the scrutiny for several seconds before he raises an eyebrow. " _Qué_?"

" _Nada. Sólo estoy mirando._ "

Vasquez raises both eyebrows in surprise. "You sound good."

Faraday grins. "I've been practicing." 

" _Por qué_?"

He figures he owes Vasquez the honest answer. Fair's fair, after all. He got an answer to his question. He shrugs, feigning nonchalance. " _Para ti_."

Vasquez settles back against the door, posture soft and open, with a gentle smile. Faraday wants to touch.

" _Es bueno, cariño_."

Faraday leans in a little more and pitches his voice low. "Yeah?"

Vasquez shudders. "Yeah."

Faraday grins. "You'll have to give me lessons though. There's still some important stuff I don't know how to say."

"Like what?"

"Like 'Can I kiss you?'"

" _'Puedo besarte?'_ " Vasquez translate dutifully.

“ _Puedo besarte_?” 

“Aye, just like that.”

“No. _Puedo besarte_?” Faraday repeats, puts heavy emphasis on each word and drops his gaze meaningfully down to Vasquez’s lips. 

There’s a brief pause that seems to go on forever. He starts to lean back and out of Vasquez’s space, ready to laugh, joke it off, and flee before Vasquez loses his good humor. Maybe he read the whole thing wrong. This time loop has his common sense all muddled too. Vasquez reaches out and curls a hand over his hip. Faraday freezes.

“ _Sí. Por favor_ ,” Vasquez says quietly.

Faraday braces his forearms on the door and leans back in. He doesn’t go straight for it. Brushes his nose against Vasquez’s temple, his cheek. He scrapes his teeth gently along his jaw, before nosing the way under his chin to his neck.

Vasquez’s head thumps back against the wood, allowing Faraday access to more skin. Faraday hums, skimming his lips along the expanse of Vasquez’s throat. He darts his tongue out to lick at Vasquez Adam’s apple before he takes a moment to just breathe against his pulse.

“Quit teasing, _cabrón_. Are you going to do it or not?” Vasquez says into Faraday’s hair impatiently. 

Faraday grins, pulling away enough to look at the other’s face. “ _Cálmate. Si quieres que lo haga, lo haré_.”

Vasquez’s eyes go gratifyingly dark before he growls low in his throat. “Then do it. No more games, güe-”

Faraday cuts him off, pressing into him and swallowing the rest of the sentence. The light, teasing mood from before catches fire quick. Vasquez groans and widens his stance, reeling Faraday in closer with an arm like a vice at the small of his back.

The sudden urgency Faraday feels lights him up from the inside out and burns white hot under his skin. He moves in closer, as if he can force them into one being. He groans when their hips slide together just right. Vasquez makes a noise, low in his throat, that Faraday wants to hear every day of his Goddamn life. 

Faraday pulls away, panting for air, and drops to his knees.

“Can I? I want to-“ he asks, tugging gently at the waist of Vasquez’s pants.

“ _Sí. Sí_ , whatever you want, _cariño_.”

Faraday undoes the belt and fly so he can yank them down over Vasquez’s slim hips. He glances up to grin at the other man. “Tell me if I do anything you don’t like.”

Vasquez just nods jerkily and runs a gentle hand through Faraday’s hair.

“Oh, and try and hold still best you can. I ain’t done this is awhile.” 

He presses kisses up the inside of his thigh until he can mouth along the length of Vasquez. He can feel Vasquez quivering under his mouth, under his hands. 

Vasquez’s hand drops heavily onto Faraday’s head and tangles in hair. He strokes his fingers gently through the strands, breathing ragged, but doesn’t push or pull. 

He takes as much of Vasquez as he can handle in one swift movement, putting a steadying hand on Vasquez’s hip when his knees bend. He pulls off some, running his tongue over the head before sliding back down. He gets a good rhythm going, listening to the noises that Vasquez lets spill out of his mouth.

“ _Mierda_ ,” Vasquez grunts, and it sounds like a warning, but Faraday doesn’t back off. 

Vasquez’s fingers tighten in Faraday’s hair as he climaxes, spilling hot and thick over Faraday’s tongue.

Vasquez tugs Faraday up and kisses him desperately, undoing the buckle of his belt and pushing his pants down enough that he can get a decent grip on Faraday. He can’t stop himself from thrusting into Vasquez’s hand. Faraday pants into Vasquez’s mouth, lets Vasquez swallow all the noises he makes with kisses. Faraday last an embarrassingly short amount of time, legs turning to jelly as he goes over the edge. He leans into Vasquez’s chest, panting into his throat. They stay like that for a minute before they each go about refastening their pants and belts, straightening themselves out as much as they can.

In the blissful afterglow, dawn still far enough away, it’s easy as anything to turn his head and say “Come away with me.”

“What are you talking about, _cariño_?”

“Before Bogue gets here, and McCann, and all his men. We can sneak off, like Goody did.”

Vasquez pauses in adjusting his rumpled shirt so he can look Faraday in the eye. “ _Qué_? You’re no coward, _güerito_.”

“Maybe I am.”

“What?”

“I said maybe I am! Maybe I’m tired of dying in this place over and over. Because I do. I will die.”

“You don’t know-“

“But I do know! I keep reliving this day, over and over, and it always ends the same. Boom! And I wake up here again. How do you think I’ve been learning all this Spanish? You’ve been teaching me, or I’ve been able to guess what you’ve said. You know how I learned to say ‘If you want me to, I will’? You said it to me, who knows how many todays ago, when I asked you to shoot me after I got my legs blown off.”

“You’re not making any sense, _güero_.”

“Nothing makes sense anymore. I know what it feels like to get shot, and to get blown up. I know how it feels to put a bullet through my own skull because I don’t want to go on anymore. I just want a chance to get past today. To live. Don’t you?”

“We can’t desert them. You know that. _Lo siento_. I have to go make sure everything is ready.”

Faraday rest his forehead against the door when it slams behind Vasquez on his way out. The worst part, he thinks bitterly later, is that he doesn’t even get to see Vasquez again before he manages to get himself killed and the day resets.

Boom.

He can't remember what morning it is. He goes to see the preacher.

"Come for a final confession, son?"

"My momma'd kill me if I didn't, but no sir. Not quite, at least."

The preacher sits down and pats the pew next to him. 

The sit quietly in the burnt out shell of the church for a moment before Faraday turns towards him.

"I'm reliving this day. Over and over again and it always ends the same."

“Is that so?”

Faraday leans back and closes his eyes, face turned towards the ceiling. “I know it must sound crazy, but it’s the truth.”

The preacher makes a noise of consideration. “What is it that you think you need to change to move on?”

Faraday snorts. “Well, Bogue for starters, but the Gatling gun is a bigger worry. I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Maybe you just aren’t focusin’ on the right aspect of it.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing at all, to be honest with ya.”

“I’m sure God picked you for a reason, son.”

“Meaning no disrespect, Preacher, but I’m not much of a believer in God.”

“Meaning no disrespect, Mr. Faraday, but He seems to be a believer of you,” the preacher says, patting Faraday’s thigh as he stands up.

Faraday watches the preacher leave with his mouth hanging open. “Bastard.”

Boom.

Faraday takes the next day to outline everything he’s done, and everything he could possibly do to alter it. Perhaps he hasn’t been taking everything seriously enough. Perhaps he hasn’t explored all his options.

The easiest thing, he reasons, would be to reallocate some of the explosives into the spot he knows the Gatling gun will be, but the time frame doesn’t allow for it. Plus, he’s not sure he could convince the others that burying some of their few bits of dynamite out in the middle of the field makes a lot of tactical sense. 

The next thing to do would be for him to ride out earlier, stake out a spot and wait. Get to the gun before it can even fire those first deadly rounds. The problem with that is if he isn’t at his post to detonate the explosives he’s in charge of, Bogue’s men get in to overrun the town. He’s lived out an option that like once or twice. 

So he needs to be in place long enough to blow the charges he needs to, but get out behind the Gatling gun before it gets set up. He could use his lonely stick of dynamite to take the gun out, but the explosion would attract attention, obviously, and he wants Bogue to not know the gun is gone until it’s too late.

Maybe if he rides out to meet Goody, but no, Goody comes from the other direction and that wouldn’t help anything. There besides, a gun makes quite a lot of noise to try for a sneak attack to take out the group in charge of the Gatling gun. They might be able to get a couple of them, but if they gathered their wits about them fast enough to turn that gun around. 

So Goody isn’t an option. Goody has to make it into town, and into the bell tower. 

If quiet is what he wants, Horne, Billy, or Red would be the next best. Horne saves Teddy, though, and Faraday’s lived through enough days to know that Teddy also returns the favor more often than now when Bogue’s Denali comes calling.

Billy, with his knives and deadly accurate aim would be good too, but knives require proximity, even when thrown. Faraday knows from too many attempts that getting in close is bad news.

Red, he thinks, is the logical choice. Arrows are both quiet and allow for distance. The first problem with Red is going to be convincing him to abandon his post. The second is that Red is the fail safe for Emma if Teddy doesn’t take care of Denali first. 

Unfortunately, it seems to him the only option that makes sense and works for the time frame.

It takes him three tries to get Red to agree.

Red Harvest is not an easy man to talk to. Faraday often feels unintelligent when he tries to interact with people, but Red has a way of making him feel like his own lack of education is not only his own fault, but also something he’s done just to inconvenience everyone. Even if he’s being perfectly reasonable. Red just has that air about him.

“How do you know?” Red asks again, a third time, and Faraday drags an agitated hand through his hair, tugging on the strands.

“I just know. Bogue has a damn Gatling gun set up and waiting in the wings for when we start gaining ground. He sets it up out yonder where it’s out of sight but close enough to call when he needs it. Please, I just need you to trust me. You’re the best option I can come up with. Guns are too loud, and I ain’t no hand with bows. You’re quiet, you’re a deadly shot, and it has to be you. I’ll take you out there, show you where it’s at, and we’ll set up in a nice hidden spot. I’ll help any way I can, but I can’t do it without you.”

Red stares him down, and then gives a curt nod. “Okay. You have to explain to everyone why we abandon our post halfway through the fight.”

Faraday sends up a silent prayer of thanks. “Of course. Anything you want me to do.”

Red stalks away to finish preparing. 

Next, he finds Emma. She watches him warily when he approaches, but he just holds up his hand, a single bullet between his fingers. 

She raises an eyebrow at him skeptically as she takes it when he offers it to her. 

“Trust me. Please just save this. You’ll know when you need it, if you need it. You’ll know.”

She pockets the lone bullet, giving him a long, hard look before she nods slowly. “Okay. I’ll save it for when I need it.”

“Not on the balcony, but when the pistol clicks empty,” Faraday offers helpfully before he turns quickly to leave.

He can feel her eyes on him as he walks away, but he doesn’t turn around. 

He goes looking for Vasquez next. He’s easy to find, exactly where he always is at this time today, standing between two buildings on his own smoking what Faraday knows is the only cigarette he has left.

When Faraday steps up beside him, Vasquez turns a little and nods.

“Guess this is it, eh _güero_?” he says, holding out the cigarette in offering.

Faraday glances at it, and then at Vasquez, before he accepts it with a shrug. He takes a long drag before he hands it back.

“Guess so. I got a good feeling about today, though.”

“Oh yeah? You know something I don’t?”

Faraday turns fully to face him. “Maybe. I…”

Vasquez turns too, and waits. When Faraday can’t find the words to continue, Vasquez prompts, “You?”

“Just be careful. I think today is the last shot we have.”

“No kidding,” Vasquez says sarcastically, dropping what’s left of the cigarette onto the ground and grinding down on it with his heel.

“ _Lo digo en serio, nene. Ten cuidado_.”

Vasquez gapes at him, and Faraday can’t help himself. He reaches out a careful hand and brushes Vasquez’s hair away from his forehead. 

“ _Para mi_.”

Vasquez swallows hard, then nods. “Okay. _Para ti_. What do I get in return?”

Faraday steps away before he can do something stupid, and grins. “I’ll show you when this is over.”

Vasquez curses at his back as he walks away, but he just waves a hand over his shoulder and continues on his way. 

This today has a different air to it than all the previous times he’s lived it. He knows that there’s no reset for today. He doesn’t know what about today is different, but he knows.

It starts off the way most of the other days start. The charges blow, Bogue’s men are falling, and things are looking good for Rose Creek. 

Faraday abandon’s his post, dashes out into the street with bullets flying overhead. Vasquez shouts questions that he ignores as he grabs the reins of a passing horse. Red is at his side in an instant, already on his own stolen mount. 

“Take me to this gun,” Red demands.

Faraday swings up into the saddle, and they take off. 

“We’re gonna take the long way round, but we’ll have to be fast. We have to take them by surprise or it won’t matter,” Faraday calls over to Red as they ride.

They ditch the horses as soon as they get to the copse of trees that Bogue has the Gatling gun hidden behind. They creep up through the trees, and Red says something harsh in Comanche when they get the group in their sights.

“Told ya so,” Faraday whispers harshly. 

Red glares at him before taking a few more crouched steps forward. 

“What do you need me to do?”

“Be silent,” Red instructs with a scowl, pulling an arrow out of his quiver. 

The eight men in charge of the gun are just milling around, not paying any attention to their surroundings. Red drops two of them quick, behind the others so they don’t notice.

He drops a third, and one of the remaining five must have noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye because he turns around, and then alerts the others.

There’s shouting, and then they’re all readying their guns and moving slowly towards the trees. The one with the eye-patch, that Faraday knows is Lucas, stays by the Gatling gun.

“Move,” Red whispers, and take off quietly, nocking another arrow as he goes.

Faraday watches the way the four are fanning out, and moves away in the opposite direction. He crouches behind some brush and allows one of the men to move passed him. He moves quick, warps an arm around the man’s throat and puts him in a choke-hold. Faraday holds on through the struggle, until the man goes still. He doesn’t let go, not yet. After a few more seconds, he lets up enough that he can find the pulse point. Nothing. He drops the body and looks back towards the gun.

There’s three left in the trees, but Red can take those three. He trust the Comanche to handle himself. He takes a careful step towards the edge of the copse of trees.

He pulls one of his pistols from his side and steps out into the open, on the one-eyed man’s bad side. He approaches carefully, as quiet as he can. He sees a brief flash of bright color in the trees out of the corner of his eye and knows Red has seen him.

He gets up close, and Lucas whips around.

“Morning,” Faraday says brightly.

Lucas edges back, gun aimed at Faraday, eyeing Faraday’s pistol warily. 

“It seems we may be at an impasse here.”

Lucas stares at him silently.

“Let’s make a deal. You help me tear this thing apart, and I don’t shoot you,” Faraday suggest easily, gesturing to the Gatling gun beside them.

“That doesn’t really sound like a good deal for me.”

Red steps silently out of the trees, and starts moving towards Lucas.

Lucas glances at him, and then back at Faraday. “Seems like I’m a dead man either way.”

Lucas pulls the trigger, and Faraday sees the tell with enough time to move slightly. The bullet doesn’t hit him in the center of the chest like it would have if he hadn’t moved, but instead just under his collarbone towards his right shoulder. 

Red sends an arrow through Lucas’s chest and turns towards Faraday.

“Are you okay?”

Faraday grits his teeth. “Fine. Let’s just get this gun torn down.”

Red studies him for a moment, and then moves towards the gun. Faraday rips at the bottom of his shirt, and pulls a length of fabric away. With a grimace, he shoves it under his collar and presses it into his shoulder. 

Together they make quick work of taking apart the Gatling gun, flinging pieces in every direction until they can safely assume that it won’t be usable.

“We need to get back to town,” Faraday says as he gathers up the ammunition in one of the abandoned horses’ saddle bags.

The fight is winding down when they get back, the five of their group who were left in town regrouping together by the church. Bogue will probably be heading into town soon.

“Where in the devil did you two go?” Goody asks when they dismount and let the horses take off.

“Gatling gun,” Red says, moving passed the group with no further explanation. 

Everyone turns wide eyes to Faraday. “What the Comanche said. We took it out, scattered it in pieces across the field and into the trees for good measure.”

“Well alright then,” Sam says after an uncomfortable silence. “We ain’t done yet.”

“Of course not,” Faraday says. He takes a second to check on the hole in his shoulder.

“You okay?” Vasquez asks, looking on with concern as Faraday puts his makeshift bandage back.

“So far so good,” Faraday replies with a grin.

Vasquez snorts. “Ready for the last showdown, then?”

“Can’t wait.”

After that it should be easy. They leave Bogue to Sam, and then it’s just taking out the last few stragglers around town. 

Then, McCann comes around the corner, and manages to get that shot off that Faraday had hoped he had avoided by being somewhere else when it was supposed to happen. 

Vasquez kills McCann like always, and Faraday moves into the cover of the church to sit down hard.

“I thought that when I managed to change it the right way, I’d get to live too,” Faraday says to Vasquez when he comes hurrying into the church after him.

“Stop talking like that, _güerito_. You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Vasquez kneels down in front of him. “Let me see.”

“What good will it do?”

“Let me see it.”

Faraday thinks about refusing, but sits forward with a groan so he lift his shirt enough for Vasquez to see.

Faraday doesn’t look, just watches Vasquez’s face. Just by that, he knows it doesn’t look good.

“ _Cariño_ …”

Faraday leans back with a sigh, and closes his eyes. “That bad, huh?”

“It’ll be fine.” Vasquez says firmly as he applies pressure on Faraday’s side.

“Hey Vas?”

“What is it?”

“ _Puedo besarte_?”

Vasquez is quiet, hands still pressing hard to try and stop the bleeding. Faraday cracks an eye open to look at him.

“This a joke, _güero_?”

“Never. Not with you.”

Vasquez leans in and brushes his lips across Faraday’s forehead. “ _Sí_ , but once you’re better.”

Faraday laughs, and then groans. “Okay. I’ll try. I’ll try.”

Faraday wakes up.

He wakes with a gasp and tries to sit up, but someone puts their hand on his left shoulder and gently pushes him down.

“ _Cálmate, cariño_. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

He grabs onto Vasquez’s hand before the other can pull away.

“Everyone’s okay?” Faraday asks, glancing around the room. He doesn’t recognize it, and besides Vasquez, Sam is the only one there.

“Everyone’s okay, Faraday. Owe you a great deal for taking out their Gatling gun before they could use it. You took the worst. Goody got a little bruised up when he fell down from the bell tower, but he’s okay. Horne took an arrow through his hand, but Teddy managed to kill Denali before anything worse happened. Everyone else got a few scratches, but we’re all okay,” Sam tells him in a soothing voice.

“All okay?”

“We’re all okay,” Sam repeats.

Faraday closes his eyes and hides his face in his elbow. Vasquez squeezes the hand he’s still holding gently. Faraday hears the door open and close, marking Sam’s departure.

He takes a second, before he moves his arm so he can look at Vasquez with a bright smile. “We did it.”

Vasquez smiles gently at him, and uses the hand Faraday isn’t squeezing to swipe his thumb under Faraday’s eye. Faraday hadn’t realized he was crying. Normally, he’d be embarrassed, but the relief at having made it to tomorrow is too overwhelming. 

“Aye, _cariño_ , we did it.”

Faraday takes a moment to just look at Vasquez. 

“What?”

“About that kiss…”

Vasquez laughs, and Faraday can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. 

He did it. He made it through the day, and everyone that he cared about did too. That’s more than enough for him. Vasquez’s fond smile, and the warmth of a calloused hand touching his face gently is just a bonus.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you everyone for reading! Comments majorly appreciated. Constructive criticisms welcome.
> 
> Translations: 
> 
> **Listo?** : Ready?  
>  **Lo siento.** : I'm sorry.  
>  **Güero/Güerito** : Term for someone with light skin/affectionate form of the first  
>  **Cabrón** : bastard, dumbass, ect  
>  **Tonto** : Stupid  
>  **Nada. Sólo estoy mirando.** : Nothing. Just looking.  
>  **Cálmate. Si quieres que lo haga, lo haré.** : Calm down. If you want me to, I will.  
>  **Mierda.** : shit  
>  **Lo digo en serio, nene. Ten cuidado.** : I'm serious, babe. Be careful.


End file.
